


The Tallest Building in the World

by lea_hazel



Series: How We Won the War [3]
Category: Agent Carter (TV), Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: Chance Meetings, Collection: Purimgifts Day 3, Community: purimgifts, Gen, New York City, Post-World War II
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-06
Updated: 2015-03-06
Packaged: 2018-03-16 08:36:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3481520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lea_hazel/pseuds/lea_hazel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Four women with the world at their feet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Tallest Building in the World

**Author's Note:**

  * For [darthjamtart](https://archiveofourown.org/users/darthjamtart/gifts).



New York City was just as advertised, Jane found. Even for a girl of limited means, it held infinite diversions at every hour, of every kind.

And the city had a character that she couldn't quite place her finger on, as unlike London as London was unlike home. And after all, Jane had traveled more than most young women her age could expect to, even if some of it was under less than auspicious circumstances. She had Miss Fisher to thank for that, and now Mr. Butler, too.

Now and then she still thought back and wondered about how differently her life might have turned out. She didn't dwell on the details. Some things were better left forgotten, in the past where they belonged, but Jane never forgot to be grateful. 

She turned back to Miss Fisher and found her staring out over the hazy vista of the city spread out below. Her eyes strayed out to the view herself, before she turned back to the observation deck and the variegated human scenery that spotted it. Her ear picked up several different accents, though no other Australians that she could spot. They were not all tourists, either. Midmorning on a Tuesday, the people of New York still found time to appreciate living in one of the most fascinating cities in the world.

For no particular reason, her eyes locked on a pair of girls standing by the railing arm-in-arm. One of them had a basket swinging from her free hand. Something about the way they stood and talked together drew her in. One standing so tall and straight, every hair in place in spite of the bluster so high-up in the sky; the other was almost lounging, as though the world's tallest building were her private salon, and everyone on it had gathered to hear her speak. She wondered how they'd come together, and where they'd met. An unlikely pair, perhaps, drawn together by unusual circumstances. In more ordinary times perhaps they'd never have met. Perhaps they'd have passed each other by, each never learning the other's name. 

She was caught so in her own wandering thoughts when she noticed movement and saw the two walking over to her. 

***

"Hey, Peg," said Angie. 

"What is it?" asked Peggy. "Another future husband? You can't marry all of Manhattan, you know. Eventually you'll have to whittle the number down to a decent two digits or so." 

"No," said Angie, shaking her head. "That girl over there keeps looking at you." 

"What?" 

"Shh, don't look now!" 

Peggy shook her head and glanced, casually, over her shoulder. "The one with the bob and the green jumper?" 

"With the older lady in the big straw hat," said Angie. "Looks like she's been watching you for a while. Do you know her?" 

"I don't recall," said Peggy. "Well, I suppose there's only one way to find out." 

She turned around and started walking over to the pair in question. 

"Peg, no!" whispered Angie, but followed her all the same. 

The elder woman was clearly preoccupied with her own private thoughts, but her younger companion saw them approach and nodded politely. 

"Excuse me," said Peggy, "but I was wondering if we'd met before. Are you newly arrived in New York City?" 

"Only visiting," said the stranger, "with my aunt." She held out her hand and said, "Jane Ross." 

"Peggy Carter," said Peggy, taking her hand. "Pleasure to meet you." 

Her handshake was firm, but not forceful, that of a woman who knew her worth and didn't need to prove it. Very different, Peggy mused, from a man's handshake. A man was forever testing himself against one, even when saying how do you do's. 

"Jane." 

Jane's aunt stirred suddenly and fixed her eyes on Peggy, giving her quite a thorough looking-over. 

"Well, Jane, are these friends of yours?" said the lady. 

"Allow me to introduce myself," said Peggy, promptly and with a smile. "Peggy Carter, and my friend is Miss Angela Martinelli." 

"An Italian name, is it?" said the lady, examining Angie with a critical eye. "I once knew the most lovely Italian gentleman. Several of them, in fact. There really is nothing quite like an Italian man. That European charm, you know." 

Jane smiled. She didn't seem at all bothered by her aunt's unusual tangent. Angie looked positively delighted. 

"Peggy, Angie," said Jane, "my aunt, the Honourable Miss Phryne Fisher." 

Miss Fisher waved her gloved hand dismissively. "No need to stand on ceremony, Jane. Miss Carter, it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance. I didn't expect to meet a young Englishwoman in New York City." 

Peggy smiled. "The war took many of us to places we never expected to find ourselves in." 

"Indeed," said Miss Fisher, her mouth quirking into a wry smile. 

Jane was smiling, but her eyes darted back and forth between Peggy and her aunt. 

"Oh, I know, Jane," said Miss Fisher. "This war is -- _was_ \-- quite different to the wars that I have known. My war was long ago." She nodded absently. "Long ago." 

"It's quite all right," said Peggy. 

Angie started pressing Miss Fisher for saucy details from her European adventures, leaving Jane and Peggy to their own devices. 

"Your aunt seems quite the world traveler," said Peggy. 

Jane nodded. "She was, once. Did you really think you'd recognized me?" 

Peggy looked her over, trying to recall. "Were you in London during the war?" 

Jane nodded again. 

They spoke no more of it, not then. 

They stood silently for a few moments more, watching as Miss Fisher regaled Angie with tales of strange countries and exotic men. Angie gasped appreciatively and laughed at all the right parts. 

"I suppose she's glad to have a captive audience," said Jane. "I've heard all her stories before." 

"Quite an unusual woman, isn't she?" 

Jane smiled fondly. "That's what everyone says." 

The day ran away from them, in a manner which Peggy had quite forgotten they could. Late morning turned to afternoon, and serendipitous meetings to premature partings. Miss Fisher and Jane were going to the Russian Tea Room, Angie had an audition, and Peggy supposed she really ought to put in an appearance at work. 

"Here, darling," said Miss Fisher. She produced from her purse a painted postcard and a fine fountain pen. "You must come and visit, won't you?" 

"If I'm ever in town," said Peggy warmly, "I'd be honored." 

 

[ ](http://i.imgur.com/XeJlxTx.jpg)

**Author's Note:**

> I played a bit fast and loose with the history of Australian women during WWII, which I hope is forgivable, since it was necessary for the story.


End file.
